Li Yun's first night in the mortal realm was a lesson in patience and observation. The stars above were pale, distant, nothing like the brilliant constellations of his former heavens. The air smelled of wet soil and smoke from distant fires, carrying the scent of life fragile and fleeting. Every creature, every rustle of the wind, was a test for his new senses. The mortal body was weak, but his mind, sharpened across countless lifetimes, adapted swiftly.
He crouched in the shadow of a crumbling cliff, the boy trailing close behind. Jian Mei's eyes—wide, fearful, yet curious—followed his every motion. He had decided to keep the child alive, not out of sentiment, but out of necessity. Companions were tools in the forge of his power, and the boy would prove valuable if guided correctly.
The forest around them was alive with potential threats. Even in this weakened state, Li Yun could sense energy, disturbances in the natural flow that signaled the presence of cultivators and beasts alike. But he also felt something unusual—an artifact, buried in the roots of an ancient tree, pulsing faintly with energy. His instincts sharpened; even in mortal form, the lure of power was irresistible.
"This," he muttered, voice low and dangerous, "may be of use."
With careful precision, he removed the soil covering the artifact. It was small, barely larger than his palm, but faintly glowing with an essence reminiscent of a minor celestial being. Its energy whispered to him, not commanding, but inviting. A smile ghosted across his lips—the first fusion.
He channeled a fragment of his soul, still limited but potent, into the artifact. A surge of power coursed through his veins, like lightning in slow motion. The forest seemed to pause, holding its breath. A shadow, black and living, wrapped around his arm, merging with the artifact, fusing essence with essence. Pain struck, sharp and biting, yet Li Yun relished it. Every ache was a reminder that he was alive, adapting, learning.
Jian Mei gasped, taking a step back. "What… what is that?"
Li Yun's gaze softened just slightly, a flicker of the man who would protect those near him, though he would never admit it. "Power," he said simply. "Something to ensure survival."
The fusion was incomplete, imperfect—but functional. The artifact hummed in his hand, attuned to his shadowed aura. With it, even in this weakened mortal shell, he could manipulate his surroundings, repel minor threats, and test the boundaries of his new body.
A rustling in the distance. Li Yun's senses honed instantly, detecting movement before it became visible. Five figures emerged: minor cultivators, scavengers, likely sensing the energy of the artifact. They were weak individually, but numbers made them dangerous. Li Yun allowed a faint pulse of energy to surge. The earth cracked, roots writhed, and shadows twisted. The cultivators froze, paralyzed by the unnatural power emanating from his mortal frame.
"Do not mistake weakness for fragility," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, yet carrying the weight of inevitability. "Step closer, and you will regret it."
They faltered, retreating slightly, but one bold figure charged. Li Yun's shadow leapt, coiling around the aggressor's limbs, snapping bone silently but deliberately. The others froze, realizing too late that this boy—his companion—was under the protection of a force they could not comprehend.
He released the shadow. The figure screamed, clutching broken arms, yet still alive. Li Yun's eyes met Jian Mei's. He gave no words of comfort. None were needed. She understood instinctively: cruelty was a tool, mercy a choice—but life was never freely given to those who opposed him.
Night deepened. Li Yun sat by a fire he conjured from residual energy, the artifact now fused fully to his essence. Shadows lingered around the perimeter, invisible yet palpably threatening. Jian Mei shivered, and he allowed a fragment of warmth to radiate toward her, enough to calm, not enough to comfort.
"Why do you protect me?" she asked finally, voice trembling.
Li Yun's eyes, glowing faintly in the firelight, met hers. "Because if you die, I will find a way to make the world suffer in return," he said simply. The words were neither boast nor threat—they were a promise. His sadism was dormant, latent, a blade resting just beneath the surface, ready to strike if those he valued were harmed.
Hours passed. Li Yun tested the limits of his mortal vessel with the artifact. The fusion allowed him to extend his shadow, manipulate minor objects, and even glimpse the faint flow of time, mere fractions, enough to predict the most basic actions of others. It was crude, but effective—a prelude to the mastery he would regain.
And then, as the first light of dawn touched the horizon, he sensed it: a presence far stronger than these minor cultivators, approaching with intent. A pulse of divine energy, subtle but unmistakable, radiated through the forest. Li Yun's body tensed instinctively. He had been warned by the whispers of the Codex, by the lingering threads of his past consciousness. The Heavenly Gods were not idle—they were watching, always.
"Stay close," he said to Jian Mei, a rare softness in the tone that vanished almost instantly. Shadows stirred around him, coiling protectively. Even in mortal weakness, his aura radiated a command: do not challenge, do not interfere, or suffer consequences beyond comprehension.
Jian Mei's eyes widened, understanding instinctively that these were not idle threats. The first fusion was just the beginning. The path forward would be filled with danger, with betrayal, and with acts of violence that were both necessary and inevitable. Li Yun's mind, sharp and calculating, already mapped the future: alliances, enemies, and the inevitable reclamation of what had been stolen.
And as they moved deeper into the forest, Li Yun's shadow stretched long behind him, a warning to all who would dare touch his companion or challenge his growing power. The boy, trembling yet alive, walked beside him, unaware that he was now a part of something far larger, far darker, and far more dangerous than he could ever comprehend.
The world of mortals had not seen the last of Li Yun. The shadow of the divine demon was awakening, slowly, methodically, and the first steps of his resurgence had begun.